you know, my dreams are pretty interesting. they're always so vivid, with so much detail, like i'm watching a movie... and i always remember them, which i hear isn't common. for that, i am sometimes grateful... other times i'm not... my dream from a couple weeks ago i don't think i'll ever forget even if i wanted to. i know my subconscious was trying to tell me something big. something important. it had to scare me to make me hear it. it worked. i had to force myself awake from my dream. i still can't forget it, it's clinging to me.
it started out with my entire family at my grandma's house. cousins, uncles, aunts... all there. it felt like thanksgiving, but i knew it wasn't. there was food all ready to be dished up on to plates, and there was a golden, warm, and welcoming light thoughout the entire room. it was almost hazy. i guess i could just feel the love. my grandma called everyone into the living room to start praying for the meal before we started eating, and we all bowed our heads as she started to pray. about thirty seconds into her prayer, my phone vibrated in my jacket pocket. i got a text message from my aunt cindy on the other side of the room. i was wondering why she had texted me, but opened my phone to read it regardless: "your autobiographies need to stop". i was confused, and i looked up in her direction, but she wasn't where she was before i closed my eyes to pray.. it was a different woman in her place, staring at me... angry. but not just a little upset with a snarl in her lip. i have never seen someone look so angry in my entire life. it was threatening. almost paralyzingly frightening. i became aware of this fear and my heart started to race. i could feel the adrenaline rushing through me. she kept staring. she was holding a cell phone in her hand. my aunt's phone. i knew this woman texted me. i knew i wasn't imaginging it.. but i closed my eyes as tight as i could, hoping i did imagine it. i was waiting for my grandma to finish the prayer, and at this point, i prayed it would just finish.
after what seemed like years, everyone said "amen" and started making their way into the kitchen. i looked up and around, looking for that woman, but my aunt was back in her place, and she was gone. i became hysterical. i ran at my aunt and grabbed her by the arm screaming, "what do you mean?! what autobiographies?! what are you talking about?! WHO ARE YOU???" at that moment, everyone in the room turned around and faced me and everyone was screaming at me now. "your autobiographies have to stop! stop taking photos! no one cares about your photos!" i started crying and screaming and i pushed through everyone (at this point there were so many bodies lining the walls, it was terribly hard to push through them all).
i ran out the door and collapsed on the cold ground, which i felt was cement. i wasn't at my grandma's house anymore. i was on the long road to my house. empty. no houses on this part of the road... it is along side the river with tall trees lining the right and the river on the left over a field or two. it was foggy... so foggy i couldn't see my hand in front of my face. i couldn't breathe, it was so heavy. i was crawling on my hands and knees, trying to get home, but i could barely move. i was crying. i tried to stand up to run, but i couldn't, and i fell back down, only to crawl longer. i was approaching the highway underpass... when i got underneath it, i collapsed and curled up on the curb, buried my face in my palms and sobbed. "why can't i move?" i though to myself. after a short while of being alone under the bridge, i hear clicking, like dog's toenails on cement. i look up and i see my dog sadie, who was put to sleep last august. in my dream, i knew she had died, so i became hysterical again, wonderful what she was doing here. she was limping towards me, the way she did before she died, and was wimpering as she walked to me. she layed down below me at my feet, and her back started breaking. she was morphing, and i could hear her spine being crushed and tangled and twisted and it was terrible, just terrible. i was shaking and crying and i wanted to scream but i couldn't, only squeaks of sound came crawling out of my throat. she kept curling and twisting until she finally ended up dying at my feet. i was petrified. i picked her up and tried to run. i couldn't move. i laid her down on the wet grass, and i ran away. this time i wasn't crawling. i sprinted down the foggy road for what seemed like miles and miles, until i got to my backyard. i stumbled up the porch and flew into my house and slammed the door shut with my back, sinking to the ground, still crying, but exhausted... completely out of breath. safe.
i kept my head on my knees until i calmed down. when i finally composed myself i brought my head up, only to see someone sitting at my kitchen table. it was the same woman at my grandma's house that was staring at me when everyone was praying. before i could say anything to her, she started screaming. no words, just a loud, ear peircing, terrifying scream... her eyes wide in anger again. i had to cover my ears, i couldn't handle the volume of her screams. she was screaming again, "your autobiographies need to stop!" i couldn't handle it anymore, i scrambled for the door knob and ran out as fast as i could through the back door to my yard... but it wasn't my yard anymore...
i was in a forest, and there was a hill in front of me, with an old stone staircase in the center. i was barefoot, and i walked across a moss-infested path to the stairs. when i arrived at the top, i was in a stone room. it was long, dark, and there were holes in the ceiling with beams of light coming down onto what looked like dogs lining the walls all the way to the end of what looked like a never ending hallway. my parents were there. they were pacing back and forth, watching the dogs, sobbing. they were dying. the dogs were tied to the walls and they were slowly, but quietly, dying. i was horrified. i ran up to my mom and grabbed her by the shoulders and screamed, demanding what was going on, why this was happening. all she did was hugged me, and sobbed into my shoulder. i held her, and she finally spoke... "everyone is dying... why is the world so cruel? everyone is losing themselves. we are losing ourselves." and i knew then these dogs were not dogs. they represented souls... hearts... they weren't dogs anymore, they were spheres of light... slowly dimming. slowly going out. i fell to the ground and i sobbed. i gripped the moss, i tore it out, i could feel my fingernails breaking against the stone. i kept crying and crying and crying and i screamed WAKE UP EMMA WAKE UP.
i woke up. i was awake. i was exhausted. i was tense. i was sweating. and i was crying. awake. finally. but it felt so real. i took time to reflect... to think... i believe my subconsious scared me into knowing how terrifyingly open i was being with people i did not know. i quit my diary entires on my facebook page for reasons deeper than the hateful messages i was receiving for posting them in the first place... it was because of this dream. i also believe this dream reminded me how awful us, as humans, treat eachother sometimes. with words full of hatred that cut like knives, we are slowly killing eachother's spirits. we're dimming eachother's light and it is heart-breaking to sit and watch helplessly as you see it happening all around you every single day. it is important to be kind everyone. that is so important to me. and my subconsious reminded me that night how important it truly is.
the human mind is a powerful thing. a scary and beautiful and wonderful and powerful thing. and to have someone in my life who finally gets it--my mind, this mess of a mind--is terrifyingly magical and surreal. i know you'll be reading this, and i know you will know this is about you. it's nothing i haven't already told you. i know this too... but every single day you inspire me... and i want you to know that.
